Chapter 7 - The Raven's Web"David Miller?"
The gruff voice on the other end of the satellite communicator paused, the heavy static buzzing softly in the background. A keyboard clacked furiously in the distance.
"The logistics officer who walked away from black-ops asset tracking five years ago to play suburban dad?" The voice scoffed, though there was a hint of grim amusement in it. "Word around the underground is that Horizon BioGen wiped your slate clean. They own your life now, Miller. Why are you calling me on a burnt frequency?"
"Because they took my children," I replied, my voice dropping to a low, lethal register that made even the hardened broker hesitate. "And my wife just handed them over to Arthur Sterling's extraction unit less than twenty minutes ago."
Silence stretched across the satellite link for three long seconds.
"Ah," The Raven murmured. "Sterling's Black-Ops Division. If they're heading where I think they're heading, your children aren't going to a standard medical facility. They're en route to Sector Four—an underground biolab built inside an abandoned Cold War nuclear bunker sixty miles north in the Blackwood Mountains."
My eyes narrowed as I picked up the Sig Sauer sidearm, sliding a magazine into the grip with a crisp, metallic click.
"Give me the coordinates," I demanded.
"Hold on, eager beaver," The Raven warned. "Sector Four is a fortress. It has biometric retinal scanners, automated perimeter defense turrets, and at least forty armed private contractors patrolling the grounds. You go in there with just a pistol, and you'll be a smear on the concrete before you even clear the front gate."
"Then get me what I need," I said, sliding the heavy pistol into my shoulder holster and buttoning my jacket. "You have my offshore accounts. I want coordinates, blueprint schematics of the bunker's ventilation system, and a tactical diversion."
Another pause on the line, followed by the sound of digital files transferring. My burner phone buzzed violently in my pocket as a complete data package downloaded directly to my secure terminal.
"Files sent," The Raven said, his tone turning serious. "I'll ping a rogue drone squad to disable the bunker's exterior power grid for exactly three minutes at midnight. That’s your window, Miller. Once those three minutes are up, the backup generators kick in, and you're fighting an army in the dark."
"Three minutes is all I need," I said.
I ended the call, tossed the satellite communicator onto the bed, and walked out of the bedroom without looking back. My old suburban life was dead. The man who cared about mortgage payments, PTA meetings, and family barbecues died the moment Lily looked into my eyes and whispered that I had promised to keep them safe.
May you like
I stepped out through the shattered front door, got into my car, and turned the ignition.
It was time to collect my family.
